Twisted Fate
by Azurite
Summary: AU: Fate must really have it in for Usagi, a rising star of the architectural industry. After all, how often do you run into your ex-boyfriend when trying to pick up your brother from the airport? And get stuck inside a bathroom? CH4 Edited 08-31-09
1. Welcome to the Airport

**Twisted Fate  
A Sailor Moon Fanfiction  
Version: 2.0  
By:** Azurite - azurite AT seventh-star DOT net  
a.k.a The Artist Formerly Known as Andi (or Andromida)

**Site: **seventh-star DOT net

** Written for the WAFF vs. TAFF Day on the SMRFF Mailing List  
**lunap DOT com SLASH smrff

**Edited: **08-31-09

**Disclaimer: **Sailor Moon does not belong to me. It is the property of Naoko Takeuchi and is licensed by Toei Animation, Kodansha Publishing, and probably a bunch of other companies that I'm not 100 percent sure or aware of. This is a not-for-profit entertainment venture only.

**Author's Notes 08-31-09: **I edited this because whenever I think of an old fic of mine, I have to just take a look at it. If I see it's still formated in text format, wrapped to 72 characters per line and referring to old websites that aren't around anymore, I just can't resist the urge. Plus it's fun to be nostalgic every now and again to see how far my writing's come. In my original author's notes for this fic, I said I was a "Fencer," or someone who couldn't quite decide on whether I liked WAFF (fics with Warm And Fuzzy Feelings) or TAFF (Twisted And Fuzzy Feelings). Oh, how times have changed! Angst may not be my forté, but I certainly love fics with a good twist to them nowadays.

This was also written prior to the events of 9/11, which means that airport security wasn't as tight as it is now. The idea of Usagi getting trapped in a bathroom past the securit checkpoint at 2 A.M. was a lot more plausible in the late 90s than it was after 2001. As for how Shingo calls people in-flight, imagine he's using one of those built-in seat phones. It was common for first-class back in the day; now a lot of flights have them!

That said, **_this is an AU_**. That is, no Sailor Senshi, no youma, no magical powers.

**Thanks:** The thanks for the original story ideas remain the same as the original version of this fic - to Lady Baine (Bonnie) and Sailor Sista, who've put up with my weirdness and other strange traits over the years. Thanks, guys!

* * *

Usagi Tsukino grumbled and rubbed her red eyes for the umpteenth time that evening. She hated late nights. Mornings were her best time, when she could devote her full concentration and creativity to a task—such was the reason why she was an architect. She had the opportunity to work in a large, enterprising firm in downtown Tokyo, make a six figure salary each month, and watch ideas become reality before her very eyes.

But these eyes were bloodshot and red; she'd been up for eighteen straight hours without a wink of sleep, and only one cup of coffee—and that warm, spiced feeling pouring down her throat felt like it hadn't happened in years. And with her luck, all the airport cafes were closed at this time of the night.

She knew her parents didn't drink coffee anymore; they'd stopped once Kenji, Usagi's father, retired from his taxing job as a newspaper photographer. Not long after Usagi started pulling all-nighters at the firm and earned herself a top-position and an apartment of her own, the coffee machine broke. Usagi hadn't the time nor the desire to go out and buy one for herself—so when she'd left her parents' place this morning, she was tired.

Morning, you see, because it was 2:36 AM. Usagi Tsukino, rising star of the Tokyo Industrial Architecture Firm, was dead tired waiting for her little brother Shingo to come home for his spring break from his college in the United States.

"Damn brother…been causing me trouble since he was born," Usagi grumbled. She rubbed her eyes again, not caring if her eyeliner was smudged or her mascara highlighted the rings under her eyes.

Sadly, all the cafes **were** closed at this time of the morning. Aside from baggage security and the occasional shift guard, Usagi felt like the only person in the entire International Terminal. Even the normal P.A. system was quiet. All in all, it was unusual for such a big city airport to be so quiet…even at 2:38 in the morning.

Drowsily, the blonde looked around for a soda machine. She wandered the terminal for about ten minutes in either direction, knowing she would easily get lost—or likely find a comfy chair and fall asleep—in the expansive Narita Airport.

When Usagi finally heard the familiar hum and bright glow of the soda machines, she was overjoyed. She quickly rummaged through her purse, and with growing dismay, realized she had not taken her wallet with her. She had been so tired when she arrived at her parents' house earlier that evening that she'd dropped all her blueprints, her briefcase, cell phone, and her wallet—and when it came time to go and pick up Shingo, she'd sleepily grabbed only her car keys!

She cursed her stupidity twelve hundred times over against the soda machine, almost whimpering when she spotted a can of Pokka Coffee BM behind the glass.

"GRRRR!" Usagi regained her composure—though no one had been watching her bash her head against the machine, anyway—and walked haughtily back to the gate where Shingo was expected—Usagi checked her watch—in forty minutes. Why did she get here this early? Moreover, why hadn't traffic been horrible, like it was always supposed to be? At least, if Usagi was still in her car, she'd have some Black/White caffeniated gum in her glovebox, a radio to listen to, and other bad drivers to yell  
at.

Sighing, Usagi sat down and attempted to be interested in a discarded _Flight_ magazine next to her. An interminable amount of time later, Usagi found herself drifting off to sleep, the words of the magazine coming together in a fine blur of blue and black dots. She jerked upward with a start, rubbing her eyes.

She walked around and stretched, desperately trying to make the time go faster, but if anything, her attempts only slowed down the time.

Glancing at a digital clock on the wall nearby, it blinked…and, as Usagi waited, it seemed like another ten minutes before it blinked again and the digits changed.

Sighing, Usagi walked into the general vicinity of the bathrooms, not remembering exactly where they were. That was when she heard an all too-familiar voice—

"No, I **don't** have any bags with me…I'm here to pick up someone—" Usagi paled considerably, and ducked into the restroom, inhaling deeply when the door swung closed.

"Why is **he** here…NOW of all times?" Usagi murmured fretfully. "He" was the boyfriend she'd broken up with six months ago: Mamoru Chiba.

Just before she'd made it into high school, she'd met him. They'd met at a big party, actually, and…well, one thing had led to another. But not long after Shingo left for college, Usagi started seeing Mamoru's faults—like his callousness, inability to **feel**, his tightwad attitude, and above all, his arrogance. She'd broken up with him and never spoken to him again. But now…

"What am I doing?" Usagi chastised herself. This was Mamoru. She had decided that **he** wasn't worth **her** time, not the other way around. Sure, her parents and Shingo might have adored him, and he might have even been nice, polite, and well-off, but…but…STILL!

"Listen to me, I'm acting like a high-schooler. Even if no one else is out there, there's nothing stopping me from acting my age, being myself: calm, cool, confident."

Usagi stared at herself in the mirror and promptly adjusted her makeup to look her best, even at this ungodly hour. Her eyes were still red, but with her light blue eyeshadow accenting her cerulean eyes, the red faded. A simple application of lipgloss and…

Usagi smiled at her reflection, attempting to believe wholeheartedly that her knees weren't shaking simply because her ex was here. But the moment she pushed that swinging door open and Mamoru Chiba turned and locked gazes with hers—his eyes widening in surprise at seeing her, no doubt—Usagi's confidence bled out of her like helium from a balloon. She quickly dashed back into the confines of the bathroom and locked herself into the handicapped stall, where she stood slumped against the door, shaking.

'_It's not supposed to be like this!' _

A moment later, the swinging door into the restroom squeaked, indicative that someone had just come in.

"Usagi?"

Silence greeted Mamoru Chiba as he slipped into the seemingly-empty women's restroom—but at this time of the morning, and more importantly, under these circumstances, he was not afraid of someone screaming at him and calling him a peeping tom or a pervert. A tiny little fear in him **was** there, and it whispered little things about how a certain ex-girlfriend, upon sight of him, had run away.

_'Yes, Chiba, you scared her. And that's not a good thing, now, is it? You used to think you didn't need anyone, but she proved you wrong…but your dumb arrogance got the better of you and you ruined a perfectly good thing…!'_

_'Oh shut up.'_ Mamoru cursed his idiotic conscience for making him think that way. He hadn't thought about Usagi for the longest time…or at least, it hadn't **felt** like a long time.

Only tonight, when Usagi's brother called him up and asked him for a ride home from a red-eye flight from the Narita Airport did Usagi fill his mind again. Shingo explained that he'd tried reaching Usagi on her cell phone, but kept on getting bumped into voice mail. He expressed his worry to who he thought was Usagi's boyfriend—a mistake which Mamoru "forgot" to correct—and then asked him for a ride home, assuming Usagi had business out of town, or an emergency had come up.

Neither of Shingo's parents drove anymore, and Shingo had no Japanese money with what to pay a taxicab driver or train fare. Mamoru, though tired himself from his twelve hour workday at the Legal Offices of Kotomichi and Chingu, agreed. He hadn't expected to see Usagi though—certainly not at the airport.

"Usagi?" he tried again. Well, at least, he thought, with a sigh, she was safe. All Shingo's unfounded fears about Usagi being in a car accident and such were wrong. Mamoru had told the younger boy Usagi was a perfectly good driver and she was no doubt just fine. He could offer no real reassurance as to the blonde's whereabouts, however, or explanations for why she hadn't picked up her cell phone.

"Go away," a muffled voice, accompanied by a soft sob came. Mamoru followed the sound, walking past the open stalls of the women's restroom, until he found the one where Usagi was—the locked handicap stall.

"Usa, what are you doing here?" he murmured, standing just outside the door. His hand gently pressed against the door, and as he closed his eyes, he willed himself to **see** her again…smiling. Not shocked, as she had been moments before, not angry as she had been when they broke up, and certainly not crying, as she no doubt was now…because of **him**.

"Don't call me that!" came a loud, obviously enraged yell at the pet name.

Mamoru's eyes shot open and he sighed. Yes, things were the same with her all right—she was still **mad** at him. It wasn't as though he'd taken any steps to do otherwise—but there was truth in the old adage that said that friendship often leads to love, but love to friendship never. He'd never called Usagi back, never visited her apartment, talked to her friends, or even wished her a Merry Christmas or Happy New Year when those holidays came and went.

He hadn't even told Shingo when he'd called earlier in the evening that he'd been broken up with Usagi for nearly six months. He could barely admit it to himself, let alone others.

"I-I'm sorry, Tsukino-san," Mamoru said softly, reverting back to the most honorable name he could find for his ex. Unlike other men who had been dumped, Mamoru could find no reason to be angry at Usagi. She was totally justified in her reasoning for their breakup, and it wasn't until after the fact that Mamoru realized he had to change his attitude to 'win' her back.

But things had just stagnated. A sniffle, and then a sucked in breath: "Forgiven." It was too bad it was only forgiveness for a simple faulty tongue, rather than all the horrible things he'd said and done to her when they'd actually been together.

Now, here they were, in a women's restroom at Narita Airport at 2:59 in the morning, alone. Together. It didn't seem as if Usagi was making any move to unlock the door and talk, so Mamoru settled himself on a nearby countertop and spoke.

"I didn't expect to see you here tonight," Mamoru began, hoping the topic would lead into why she hadn't answered her cell phone, thus causing so much grief for her little brother, and for Mamoru himself, who'd had to fish around for answers about why Usagi wouldn't answer.

"Ditto," Usagi mumbled, but she didn't say anything further.

"Why **are** you here tonight?" Mamoru finally asked pointedly.

"Why shouldn't I be?" Usagi demanded gruffly, "It's a free country."

"It was just a question, Tsukino-san," Mamoru murmured. He glanced at his watch. Ten minutes before Shingo's flight was due to arrive.

"Damn it, you make me sound like my mother. Call me Usagi." Usagi swallowed once more and sniffled, wiping her face with a paper towel. Stupid Mamoru. Stupid, stupid…!

"Usagi-san." Usagi growled at this, but accepted it. It just **felt** weird…having her ex call her Usagi-san, like her co-workers, rather than Usako, which had been his pet name for her when they first started going out. She missed the sound of it. Since it was such a private and intimate nickname, Usagi never heard it from anyone else. It wouldn't have sounded right, anyway, coming from anyone else's lips.

Even her closest friends called her Usagi-chan, or just plain Usagi.

_'It's my fault. I could have pursued relationships with other guys, but I didn't. Even though Mamoru was a foolish, rude, idiot…he made me…he made me l-l…' _

"Usagi? You never answered my question," Mamoru's voice brought the blonde out of her stupor, and she nodded slowly, allowing herself the proper arm leverage to stand up, if on shaky legs.

"I'm here to pick up Shingo…he's here for his spring break from college in the States."

"…That's strange. Shingo called me about two hours ago from the plane. He said you weren't answering your cell phone, so he asked me to pick him up," Usagi pressed her hand to the door and pretended to **see** Mamoru through it. Confusion clouded her own eyes as she wondered about why he would simply agree to pick up his ex-girlfriend's little brother at such an ungodly hour of the morning.

"I left it at home…I was so tired when I left the office this—I mean yesterday—evening that I must have forgotten it when I left my parent's house earlier," Usagi mumbled, her hand sliding towards the locking mechanism.

"'The office?'" Mamoru questioned, seriously wondering. The last he knew, Usagi hadn't worked in any sort of an office or kept late hours doing anything but going out to karaoke with her friends. His eyes became fixated on the figure behind the door, and he wondered when she'd emerge so he could finally see her after all this time.

"Yeah…I, uh, work for Tokyo Industrial Architecture firm."

"Really?" Mamoru started, his interest piqued, "Kotomichi and Chingu have a few cases with them later this month…"

"You work with them?" Usagi asked, leaning against the door. It would be better if she just stayed in the stall, wouldn't it? Not have to **face** him again? She was sure her resolve—or what little of it she'd managed to build up once more—would crumble. What little she'd seen of him in that short glimpse had nearly made her heart stop—standing in front of him and **talking** to him surely would…!

"Yeah."

Silence reigned for a few moments, and then the lock to the stall where Usagi had locked herself opened. Usagi stood there, one hand still on the door handle, her eyes downcast.

Mamoru didn't smile, but he did speak: "You look good."

At the unexpected compliment, Usagi looked up, and she did smile, highlighting her face brilliantly, "You too."

"I guess we better get out there…five minutes until his flight arrives," Usagi mumbled, out of words to say.

"Yeah. I'll…uh, say hi and then just go home, I guess." Mamoru gave her a lopsided grin that threatened to make her heart beat double-time, but that expression quickly faded when he tried to open the swinging door that led back out into the terminal.

It wouldn't budge.

He pushed, he pulled, he banged, kicked, and otherwise bashed the door—but it didn't move.

They were trapped.

* * *

**Please review!**

**Toodles!**


	2. Trapped?! I think NOT!

**Twisted Fate  
A Sailor Moon Fanfiction  
Version: 2.0**

**Chapter 2: **Trapped!? I think NOT!

** By:** Azurite - azurite AT seventh-star DOT net  
a.k.a The Artist Formerly Known as Andi (or Andromida)

**Site: **seventh-star DOT net

** Written for Usa Day and reposted for WAFF vs. TAFF Day 2003 on the SMRFF Mailing List  
**lunap DOT com SLASH smrff

**Edited: **08-31-09

**Disclaimer: **Sailor Moon does not belong to me. It is the property of Naoko Takeuchi and is licensed by Toei Animation, Kodansha Publishing, and probably a bunch of other companies that I'm not 100 percent sure or aware of. This is a not-for-profit entertainment venture only.

**Author's Notes 08-31-09: **Please see the author's notes from the last chapter.

* * *

Shingo Tsukino considered himself a very intelligent boy. He supposed that was why he'd gotten accepted to a prestigious college in the States, on a full scholarship, no less.

Only now, as he was trying to stay awake, nearing the end of his sixteen-hour flight back home to Japan, was he thinking that perhaps he wasn't so smart after all.

For starters, he'd been up for over twenty-four hours—and since there was a time difference between the time of his home country and the time zone of his college back in the States, he truly **was** losing more sleep than he was making up for on the plane.

In any case, it had been a red-eye flight on both ends—getting up at 3:30 in the morning in the States, only to sleep less than four hours on the 5:30 flight, and then lose six hours MORE of sleep due to the time difference.

Perhaps he wasn't a plane person after all.

Worse, besides his mistake in attending a school so far away from home, and getting on such a horrendously early flight, he'd been stupid enough to rely on Usagi to pick him up.

True enough, she'd long since grown out of her old habits of being late everywhere she went, but as they both grew up, Usagi matured, and could be relied upon quite often as the older sister she was.

Except tonight…the one night when he desperately wanted—no, **needed—**to simply go home and collapse onto his old bed…Usagi forgot. He'd called her just LAST night— that is, two days ago, considering how long he'd been awake and how long he'd been on the plane—and gone over every minute detail of the plan to pick him up from his three o'clock in the monring flight at Narita International. She'd even told him what she'd be wearing—as if there'd be a crowd of people there for a red-eye flight, or as if Shingo wouldn't be able to recognize his own **sister**…but it was just precautionary.

So when Shingo had called Usagi's cell, as ecstatic as someone as tired as he could be—considering the flight was nearing its end—he hadn't had the energy to be angry at Usagi for forgetting. So he'd hung up the airplane phone, wracked his brain for a phone number, and called Mamoru.

To be truthful, Shingo hadn't liked Mamoru at first—had even come up with a million reasons why Usagi **shouldn't** be dating the likes of him—but in the few weeks he'd spent time with Usagi and Mamoru before he left for college in the States, Shingo changed his mind about Mamoru. It had been more than six months since then; he hoped they were still together.

From how Mamoru had sounded, they were. But Shingo had an uneasy feeling when he thought of Usagi and Mamoru. The thoughts of Usagi being too good for Mamoru had long since vanished, so it wasn't that…but he was worried nonetheless. The plane was on its downward descent, and only the sudden worry about his older sister that gripped the college freshman kept him awake.

Something about the excuses Mamoru had given for why Usagi hadn't answered her phone irked him. Something was wrong.

* * *

For good measure, Mamoru put his foot against the door while gripping the metal handle, and jiggled it profusely.

The door didn't budge. The blue-and-white pentagon-shaped tiles squealed in protest to the friction against them, leaving little, white, eraser-like streaks on the worn floor.

Usagi sighed from behind her ex-boyfriend, collapsing into a heap. She rested her head on her bent knees, mumbling between the gaps, "Give it up, Mamoru. We're stuck."

Mamoru turned around to her, his eyebrows raised at her admission of defeat. It just wasn't Usagi's style—but then, they'd broken up six months ago, and she might have changed. But what could have broken her so much that she just **gave** up at the first sign of resistance? It…it just wasn't her.

"I don't plan on being stuck in a women's bathroom until 9:30 this morning. I'd like to go back home, and maybe get some sleep."

"Well, SORRY!" Usagi cried, standing up and punching the door expressively. Her face contorted into a mask of pain and anger as she brought her suddenly red knuckles to her lips and sucked on the bruised mounds as tears formed in her eyes.

Mamoru sighed, wondering why he'd even bothered to argue with Usagi in the first place. His leg was starting to go numb anyway, and they'd been trying for the past three minutes. Shingo's flight was due to arrive in two minutes, and if neither of them were there to greet him…

He withdrew his leg from the doorframe, his hand following the motions of his body, as he strode over to Usagi's side. He wrapped one arm protectively around Usagi's waist, his entire side tingling at the contact. It had been so long since her frame—each perfect curve—had been fitted to him like it was now, even if it was only to guide her to the sink and get her to wash her knuckles off.

She gasped at the contact of the cool water and pearl-colored soap with her injuries, but but her lip and tried not to focus on the pain, as Mamoru tenderly washed her hands with a wet paper towel.

It was odd, staring at him like this, holding her bruised hands in his, being so…so…

_ 'Everything I made him out _NOT_ to be.' _

For just a moment, Usagi regretted ever breaking up with Mamoru. That warm feeling—that inexplicable feeling of belonging—flowed through her, and she wished she could just collapse into his arms again, cry her heart out. She'd been strong these past several months—claiming that she wasn't thinking about him; that she had more important things on her mind than an ex-boyfriend she was probably never going to see again.

And yet…yet…here he was. Here **they** were, stuck in an airport bathroom, of all places. Fate was truly responsible for this—if ever Usagi believed that everything happened for a reason, now was the time.

The P.A. system outside was announcing the arrival of Flight 2181 from Boston, Massachusetts, via San Francisco, California. Shingo's flight.

The dread that had been building in Usagi suddenly came back full force. She may be uncomfortable here with Mamoru, and maybe Fate was trying to send her some twisted message…but all the same, he was her only ticket out of this god forsaken bathroom.

Usagi had promised—**promised**—her little brother that she'd be there to meet him, and so help her, she would. So **what** if Mamoru had flustered her with his tender caress, his sudden sense of caring, and his compliments, simple yet direct?

She was reddening, she knew, as she glanced up at her reflection in the mirror, hoping the tall, handsome man cleaning her wounds wasn't looking. He finished patting them dry, the automatic water shutting off as soon as Usagi's hand no longer blocked the sensor.

The blonde, for her part, tried to look anywhere else but toward Mamoru—and her eyes caught on a ventilation duct in the ceiling above the second stall. It was one of those tiny, cramped little stalls where you barely had enough room to turn around and put your purse on the door hook, let alone sit down and use the toilet. But if Shingo's flight was arriving, they had to move—and fast.

"Hey, Mamoru?" Usagi asked, still averting her gaze from his. She strode over to the stall, sliding inside, and not bothering to close the latch.

"Give me a hand, will you?" she called from inside the stall, the unexpected request causing Mamoru to blush crimson, even though Usagi couldn't see.

"U-Usagi-san, I don't think it's appropriate that I—" His sentence was abruptly cut off when he saw Usagi appear from the top of the stall—her hand futilely trying to touch a ventilation shaft cover above the stall.

His mind clicked in sudden realization, and he strode over to the stall to help Usagi up. She was fumbling with the small latch on the grate, her fingertips barely reaching it, as her balance became ever the more precarious. She nearly fell off the toilet seat—and had Mamoru not walked in at just that moment, she would have taken quite a nasty spill to the floor, no doubt impeding her ability to walk for a good number of days.

He caught her in his open arms, as they'd shot from his side to his front in reflex. She stared up at him from his arms, both her feet still caught on the toilet, hooked around the flushing mechanism. Her foot slipped, and the toilet flushed loudly, sending the blonde girl squealing in surprise into her savior's arms.

After the water resettled in the pristine white bowl, Mamoru allowed himself a chuckle, while Usagi heaved in his arms. Between the mix of fright, surprise, and embarassment over the whole situation, the idea that being in Mamoru's arms like this was deliciously comfortable snaked its way into Usagi's consciousness.

She chastised herself for thinking of such idiotic things at a time like this—and she knew that, if just to escape more embarassment, she had to get out of here.

"Here," she started, sliding out of his arms and pressing herself against the side of the stall, making room for Mamoru to get in, "You get on top of the toilet and see if you can open that shaft's grate, okay?"

Mamoru grunted in affirmation, sliding past Usagi, his hip brushing against her in a motion that made her shiver. Damn, this contact with him was becoming far too frequent—and far too comfortable.

He stood on the toilet seat, balancing himself with an elbow against one wall, as he reached a large hand to the grate's opening. He fiddled with the dust-covered clapse for a moment before shoving it open. It was large enough for the both of them to fit through— and it didn't look as though there was any kind of fan blocking their way.

This was a completely ridiculous idea though. Shouldn't they have even bothered to try banging on the door for a few minutes? But the door was securely locked, Mamoru knew full well, and at 3:00 in the morning, it was doubtful too many people with access to the bathrooms would hear them shouting to be let out anyway.

"This could get us into a lot of trouble." Mamoru finally reasoned, thinking up every possible law they were no doubt breaking. It wasn't exactly breaking-and-entering, since they were only going from one part of the airport to another—or at least, that seemed to be their goal. It wasn't vandalism, since they weren't doing anything to  
purposefully or directly **damage** airport property. Yet…

"Oh please. It's the airport's goddamn fault for locking me in the bathroom anyway," Usagi grumbled, moving up from the side of the stall to the other side of the toilet seat. She was less than eighteen centimeters from Mamoru, and she could tell that the sudden closeness was making him uncomfortable too. Why else would he have suddenly backed himself into the toilet paper dispenser?

"Hoist me up there, will you, Mr. Lawyer?" Mamoru gave her a look, and Usagi only grinned in response. He picked Usagi up as best he could, considering his unbalance on the lid of a toilet seat, edging over the hole that separated the dryness of his shoes from utter sop.

He lifted her up, first onto his shoulder, then gently nudging her forward into the shaft. He was next. He sighed, remembering a particularly uncomfortable incident in an elevator when he was nineteen. Oh well.

"Come on!" Usagi shouted back to Mamoru, already crawling ahead of her ex, into the darkness of the tiny shaft. She was disguising a crimson blush, a wide grin, and a barely-supressed giggle as she crawled into the ventilation shaft.

"What am I getting myself into?" Mamoru murumured under his breath. He hoisted himself up onto the flushing mechanism of the toilet, heedless of the toilet flushing on far too many cycles of empty water. As he pushed himself into the opening, his leg left the silver metal and he disappeared into the shaft behind Usagi.

The bathroom fell silent once more, not even the drip of a toilet or leaky sink sounding.

Outside in the terminal though, a tired Shingo looked around in confusion.

"Usagi? Mamoru?"

* * *

**Please review!**

**Toodles!**


	3. The Underbelly of the Airport

**Twisted Fate  
A Sailor Moon Fanfiction  
Version: 2.0**

**Chapter 3: **The Underbelly of the Airport

** By:** Azurite - azurite AT seventh-star DOT net  
a.k.a. The Artist Formerly Known as Andi (or Andromida)

**Site: **seventh-star DOT net

** Written for Mamo Day on the SMRFF Mailing List  
**lunap DOT com SLASH smrff

**Edited: **08-31-09

**Disclaimer: **Sailor Moon does not belong to me. It is the property of Naoko Takeuchi and is licensed by Toei Animation, Kodansha Publishing, and probably a bunch of other companies that I'm not 100 percent sure or aware of. This is a not-for-profit entertainment venture only.

**Author's Notes 08-31-09:** Please see the Author's Notes in Chapter 1.

* * *

Usagi could barely see a foot in front of her, and was using her tactile skills to ensure that there was actually a shaft in front of her. There was a soft humming far in  
front of her and to the left, and if she continued going towards it, she was sure they'd find an opening into the terminal.

It wasn't important WHERE in the terminal they ended up, just hopefully somewhere near the gate where Shingo's flight had arrived.

Mamoru, luckily, had a glow-in-the-dark sports watch, and confirmed for Usagi that indeed, Shingo's flight had arrived about five minutes ago. Usagi could only hope that her little brother wouldn't be too worried; judging from what Mamoru had said, he'd been babbling about the hundreds of things that could have happened to her; empty speculations as to why she'd left her cell phone at home.

_ 'The goofball didn't think I was just as tired as he was and left it at home?'_ Usagi paused a moment to rub her eyes, adjusting slowly to the level of darkness surrounding  
her.

Behind her, Mamoru paused, realizing there was no longer the tmp-tmp of Usagi's knees on the metallic shaft's surface. He had been desperately trying to focus anywhere but right in front of him—as his position directly behind Usagi gave him quite the view of her rear—despite the fact that his build put his head a good thirteen centimeters above her backside. Regardless, even in the dark, he could sense her movements, and the earlier sensations of brushing against her were too much to handle.

He couldn't risk it.

After all, she'd broken up with him for a reason.

Reasons, actually, he mentally corrected himself, since Usagi had practically given him a **lecture **when she left him. He had to say, it wasn't much of a surprise—but  
knowing that didn't lessen the pain any.

After they'd broken up, Mamoru had tried to come up with a hundred excuses why everything she'd said had been a lie. That hadn't worked any, for as Mamoru  
tried to enter the dating scene once again, he kept on thinking of her…and everything that had attracted him to her in the first place.

So then, he reasoned, the key was to forget about her.

He threw himself into his studies, rising through the ranks of the law firm where he had been interning, quickly gaining popularity with the counselors as well as the partners. By the time he completely graduated law school and passed the bar, he was already on his way to getting his first case.

And that had been just over four months ago. To think, only half a year ago, he'd still been with her…still…

_'Snap yourself out of it man!'_ Mamoru chastised himself, following Usagi in silence as once more, she crept forward. The sound of her knees thumping softly on the metal echoed, as she kept heading to who-knows-where.

"Hey, Usagi." Mamoru paused, his knees aching from the past eight minutes of crawling nonstop. She didn't register his hail, other than to cock her head slightly in his direction, a movement which he only noticed because of the faint light source in front of Usagi.

"Usa!" he repeated, and she stopped, this freezing rather than even slightly glancing his way.

Usagi sighed and hung her head, wishing her heart wouldn't race every time he called her that.

_ 'He didn't even say it affectionately, you fool. He's probably got a girlfriend now, and whatever you felt—whatever you _thought_ you felt—in that silly bathroom was just… just a fluke.' _

And yet, it felt like she was lying to herself. She shook her head almost mournfully, trying to rid her own inner chastisements about why she'd broken up with him out of her mind.

"What?" she sighed, finally flopping down as they reached a wider segment of the shaft. She hugged her knees to her chest, wishing that the fifty-some-odd meters they had ahead of them would simply vanish.

She wished that she HADN'T run away from seeing Mamoru, hadn't reacted so foolishly…**hadn't gotten themselves locked in that stupid bathroom!** Maybe then none of this would have happened.

How foolish she was.

"Where exactly are we going?" Mamoru asked slowly, thinking he'd upset her with his harsh tone of voice. It was bad enough she'd run away from him when she saw him in the terminal in the first place—run right into the bathroom, and started crying. Had he really hurt her so much?

When they broke up, it had seemed like Usagi was the cold and callous one. If women praised a man with sensitivity, then it seemed Mamoru had more than he ever gave himself credit before. While his one high school friend Motoki had told him to "lighten up" and "get out more," women flocked to him regardless.

Back in the day, Mamoru had been so focused on his studies—getting into a good school, obtaining a scholarship, and juggling his two part time jobs—that he hadn't had time for dating. That didn't change the fact that he found himself swarmed by admiring girls—many who were just as intelligent as he.

But he couldn't bring himself to even **feign** interest, not even for Motoki's sake.

After they'd broken up, Mamoru tried to think of reasons why **Usagi** was the flawed one—and yet whatever he thought of as flaws were truly human traits… and she'd been through so much in her life, more than he ever gave her credit before.

If he'd secluded himself from the world because of his own tragedies—losing his parents, and his memory of childhood—then she'd done the opposite upon experiencing pain and loss. He hadn't really **known** Usagi until they'd broken up— and he found himself mourning her, despite his initial anger, like a precious thing lost  
to destiny.

But he'd tried to forget— tried to move on…and for the most part, it had worked. He had a social life not unlike like his high school days. Between preparing for cases, writing statements, and gathering witnesses for his clients, he didn't have time for much of a social life…let alone romance.

Many of the lawyers and partners went to a bar every Thursday, but for the year or so he'd been with them—and for the four months  
he'd actually been known—he'd declined every outing. It just… wasn't his style. He was probably jeopardizing his potential for moving up in the firm because of it, but he could never feel comfortable in a bar with other men, getting drunk and hitting on local office ladies or the young bartending girls.

In any case, here he was now—with a woman he thought he'd never see again; never feel anything for, after how she'd hurt him…and wishing he could find some more intelligent words to say than "Where are we going?"

"…the shaft." Mamoru blinked, his mind finally registering that Usagi had responded to his question, and he hadn't been paying any attention.

"Say it again?" Mamoru repeated, cringing.

Usagi glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, blinking at his obvious inattentiveness, and slowly repeated what she'd just said.

"Judging by the length of this from the bathroom's grate, there should be another opening about fifty meters and to the left of the shaft."

Mamoru blinked, envisioning what she'd just said in his mind. Indeed, there was a slight light source coming from somewhere in the distance—fifty meters was a good as guess as any.

"How do you know?" Mamoru asked, not wanting to be stuck in the shaft any longer than he had to. Despite it being an air ventilation shaft, spring in Tokyo was cool, and the fans often were left off, especially at this early time of the morning.

What was more, the metal absorbed the heat of the high-ceilinged airport terminal, so inside the tunnel was like the inside of an Easy Bake oven.

_ 'Excuses, excuses!'_ Mamoru's conscience reprimanded him. Ever since that blasted elevator incident when he was nineteen—the day he'd asked Usagi to become his girlfriend, no less—he'd never been able to stand dark, enclosed spaces. The only thing keeping him sane right now, as it had been back then, was Usagi's presence.

Usagi wiggling in front of him as he was was just adding to the stress and perspiration creasing Mamoru's brow.

The fifty meters were soon covered, as Usagi had started crawling again as she spoke.

"I saw some plans for the airport back at TIA—Tokyo Industrial Architecture, if you don't remember—and the ventilation shafts are roughly seventy-five meters in length. Then they're supposed to divide into two segments one going out and down towards the main terminals, the other going towards the port suction, where there's a fan that could essentially hack you into sashimi." She paused for effect, mentally noting that the light source was getting closer.

Its luminescence was off, however. While the terminals and the bathroom had been glaringly bright, with fluorescent bulbs lining nearly every square meter of the ceiling, the shaft was dark, and the strange light that Usagi had been following looked like the reflection of a dim bulb on aluminum.

They rounded the corner in anticipation, Mamoru looking at his watch once more to make sure they weren't too late. Amazingly enough, they'd only been crawling for about twelve minutes now, and so if Shingo wasn't waiting for them at the terminal, it was a good bet that they could find him at the baggage claim, or perhaps  
at a coffee machine.

Mamoru was just coming around the corner himself when he heard a distinct groan.

"Usagi?"

The aforementioned girl didn't respond—but she started hitting the metal with her fists, in a classic angry-at-the-world pose.

He glanced up to see what had enraged Usagi so—and he gulped as he found a light bulb attached to a single **concrete** wall—and it illuminated a sheer drop that went down at least one hundred meters.

Fate really loved them this morning.

* * *

** Bleh…okay, not so much WAFF or much of anything in this chapter. But that's okay, because there will be flashbacks aplenty in Chapter 4! I'll come out with that as soon as possible…and I apologize for the last-minute quality of this… I knew I should have written it sooner!**

**Once again, Happy Mamo Day to all!**


	4. Sucked In

**Twisted Fate  
A Sailor Moon Fanfiction  
Version: 3.0**

**Chapter 4: **Sucked In

** By:** Azurite - azurite AT seventh-star DOT net  
a.k.a. The Artist Formerly Known as Andi (or Andromida)

**Site: **seventh-star DOT net

** Written for the WAFF vs. TAFF Day on the SMRFF Mailing List  
**lunap DOT com SLASH smrff

**Edited: **08-31-09

**Disclaimer: **Sailor Moon does not belong to me. It is the property of Naoko Takeuchi and is licensed by Toei Animation, Kodansha Publishing, and probably a bunch of other companies that I'm not 100 percent sure or aware of. This is a not-for-profit entertainment venture only.

**Author's Notes 08-31-09: **Please see the Author's Notes in Chapter 1.

* * *

Mamoru wasn't sure what to say.

What could you say to your ex-girlfriend who'd just been trying to pick up her brother from the airport because he'd had a red-eye flight from the States coming back from college for his first spring break and inadvertently got the two of you locked into a bathroom and crawling through a ventilation shaft?

Mamoru sighed. Too long a thought, no possible answer.

"Usak-" Mamoru stopped himself, cleared his throat, and spoke again, "Usagi, maybe we should just turn around and try finding another route."

Usagi sighed, her head hanging. At this rate, wouldn't Shingo be smart enough to try finding a taxi and heading home? With or without money, he could probably get Ikuko-mama or Kenji-papa to pay the driver when he arrived at the house or something….

She felt terrible. It was all her fault. Maturity be damned, she still couldn't find it in herself to remember to bring her own cell phone when she went anywhere, and if it hadn't been for that ONE silly mistake, she and Shingo might be on their way home by now!

But instead, she was stuck in a dark, hot shaft with Mamoru. Her ex- boyfriend.

While crawling through the darkness, she'd tried desperately not to think of just **who** it was behind her—but she could sense his movements, could hear his breathing, and almost **prayed **that he'd speak, just so she could hear his rich baritone addressing her again.

Geez, how silly. There was a **reason **she'd broken up with him. **Reasons**, actually. They both knew it. Why then, was she suddenly feeling so guilty about the whole thing? To be sure, she hadn't expected to see him again -not any time soon, and certainly not tonight, on a simple trip to pick her brother up from the airport. His face shocked her so that she'd run into the bathroom crying. **CRYING!** That wasn't…that wasn't who she **WAS** anymore. It wasn't who she'd been for a long time.

Six months ago…it was an odd feeling of "long ago" and "just yesterday." And yet, the pain, like a wound re-opened, still seemed so raw.

* * *

"…We can't do this anymore, Mamoru."

Mamoru Chiba stared at the back of his girlfriend of six years. She was trembling, fists clenched at her sides, yet Mamoru couldn't approach her. Something about the way she was standing told him not to come nearer. He'd never—not once in six years!—felt this way around her, and it frightened him.

Why was she…?

"I've been…thinking about it for a while now, and I just…"

Usagi turned around, trying to mask the tears threatening to fall down her face. She'd worked so long and hard to build up this resolve, to tell herself that she didn't need Mamoru anymore—didn't need his attitude, his arrogance—when he ever had time for her at all!

They…they were both busy people, and romance didn't fit into the equation. Admittedly, his being with her throughout high school had helped her some, but she'd always had the nagging pain at not being able to experience that life like her friends had.

Chasing after idols, drooling after her male classmates… instead, she'd thrown her all into being with Mamoru, convincing so many people that they were right when… when they'd been wrong, all this time!

"I can't do this anymore! It's over! We're through!" Usagi spun on her heels and ran off, leaving Mamoru standing in the middle of the park—past the rose garden, near the lake, where their secret spot lay—and never looked back.

Had she, she might have seen Mamoru fall to his knees, a small red velvet-covered box tumbling out of his hands and opening in the grass, revealing a heart-shaped ring surrounded by diamonds.

* * *

Usagi flopped onto her rear and sat down, her profile illuminated by the single light bulb affixed to the concrete wall. She was a mere five feet from the seemingly-bottomless drop to parts unknown, and yet her face didn't show fear—just exhaustion.

"I want out of here as much as you do, you know." Mamoru griped, noting her frustrated and exhausted expression, sitting down across from her.

Usagi glanced at him, and noticed how tightly Mamoru was holding his knees against his chest. She smirked slightly, glad to see that the "indomitable" Mamoru actually had some sort of weakness.

"What, too cramped for you?" Usagi grinned, chuckling.

"YES!" Mamoru practically yelled, his voice echoing off the metal in the shaft. Usagi blinked twice, somewhat frightened that he'd reacted so…loudly.

His voice echoed a few more times before the shaft fell silent once more, and the two were left sitting inside the dim vent. Suddenly, there was a strange thumping sound, then a slight whirring, far away from where the pair sat.

"W-What was that?" Usagi murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Silence reigned for a minute, before Mamoru spoke.

"I've hated cramped spaces…ever since that time in the elevator. You do remember it, don't you?"

Usagi raised an eyebrow, wondering what that had to do with the strange noises they'd just heard. But then she realized what 'time' Mamoru was speaking of. She looked away from him, hoping the dim light bulb didn't reveal her blushing face. Oh, she remembered it all right. All too well…

At that particular moment, her kneecaps were much more fascinating than anything else at hand, and time seemed to go by slowly. Right then, getting out of the silly air vent didn't seem so important.

"Was it really that bad?" Usagi murmured, her eyes drifting shut.

She remembered that day, six years ago…

* * *

"Hey, Mamoru…! What's going on!?" Usagi had persistently followed him all the way to the Starlight Tower, wondering why he'd been acting so weird and talking all vaguely earlier.

"Usagi, just—just go home!" Mamoru yelled back at her, barely looking in her direction.

If he did, then maybe she'd see, maybe she'd be able to tell—but he just kept walking. Biting her lip, Usagi stomped after him, shaking her first at him all the while.

"No! Not until you tell me why you've been acting so strangely ever since I saw you earlier!"

* * *

"Ma-Mo-Ru!" Usagi giggled as she placed her hands in front of Mamoru's eyes, effectively preventing him grabbing his coffee mug, since he couldn't see where he'd placed it. The last thing he wanted to do was make a swipe for it and spill it all over his expensive law textbooks. He'd gotten them second-hand, but they were still more than he could afford. He was being cheap as it was, worming his way into Motoki's good graces and taking advantage of being his best friend: it meant free coffee whenever he came to the Crown Game Center and Parlor.

Mamoru rolled his eyes underneath Usagi's sweet-smelling palms.

"Hey, Meatball Head, mind letting me get back to my coffee?"

"Geez, Mamoru-san! I'm **not** Meatball Head, I'm Usagi—and why do you always have coffee? It's the middle of the afternoon, the start of a glorious weekend…!" Usagi threw her arms up in the air and spun around on her toes, twirling enough times until she was dizzy and toppled into one of the stools near the counter.

"Hey, Motoki-niichan, can I get two chocolate shakes?" Usagi called to her "older brother," the best friend of Mamoru and the son of the owner of the Crown Game Center. If it hadn't been for him, Usagi and Mamoru never would have met. It had been at a party that Motoki invited them both to that led to them ever laying eyes on each other.

"Right at you!" Motoki grinned, sliding the glasses towards Usagi. She caught them with amazing deftness, handing one to Mamoru while she sucked happily on the straw of her own.

"Here."

Mamoru looked at the bubbling blonde, one eyebrow raised in wonderment.

"Usagi…?"

The aforementioned girl, whose twin buns atop her head **did** suspiciously resemble a pair of meatballs with spaghetti ponytails flowing from them, suddenly stopped sucking and looked at Mamoru, surprised.

"You…you called me Usagi!" Before Mamoru could cover up his slip of the tongue with another fabricated insult, Usagi's face blossomed into the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen. She almost glowed.

Mamoru swallowed a lump that suddenly formed in his throat, quickly looking away and decidedly downing half of his shake in one swallow. He needed to cool down—suddenly he was very hot…

But why… why had she smiled at him that way? Why was his heart suddenly…?

Mamoru finished the shake before this dangerous train of thought could continue any further, and he quickly rose from his seat, grabbing his books and satchel on his way out, a mere wave of his hand signaling his departure to both Usagi and Motoki.

"Th-Thanks for the shake, Meatball Head!" And then he was gone.

Usagi followed his form as he walked past the glass windows of the arcade, noticing him pause slightly, and then break into a sprint.

"What the…?" Usagi's expression became quite confused as she sucked up the last of her shake up and quickly tossed a few bills on the counter before rushing after Mamoru.

"That's strange, Usagi didn't even play her favorite game," Motoki observed, taking the bills and the empty cups. "Oh well." He smiled as he headed away from the window, the tail end of Usagi's pigtails disappearing from view.

* * *

"I wasn't acting strangely!" Mamoru insisted. This time, he faced her, trying to muster up a stoic expression—an uncaring, bland expression that would make her angry at him again, and cause her to run away.

He hated being the cause of her tears, but…

"You were too! You've never called me Usagi before, and you just ran out like that!" Usagi shot back, defending her position adamantly.

She sure was determined…and Mamoru found it harder and harder to resist her shining blue eyes and slightly pouting lips. Ever since they'd met at that party, she'd intrigued him. She was quite a character—jubilant and cheerful, strong-willed and stubborn. And a klutz. But…

"I'm not listening to this anymore," Mamoru griped, and strode purposefully towards the tower, his pace quickening.

"Hey, Mamoru, I'm not going to let you get away that easy!"

Usagi dashed after him, the two so absorbed in their thoughts that neither noticed the sky darkening and the rumble of thunder echoing in the distance.

The inside of the tower was suspiciously empty that afternoon, especially considering the observation deck at the top was quite the tourist attraction. Often the Tower was rented out for big events and conventions, so the place was almost always packed with people—students, tourists, salarymen…

Mamoru tried to ignore Usagi's voice as it called to him, echoing off the high ceilings. It didn't work. Instead, he tried to rhythmically tap out a pattern on the buttons for the elevator—but Usagi's running closer—the loud tap-tapping of her feet as she neared him—drowned out the sound of his fingers tapping. Or maybe that was his heart pounding so loudly in his ears…

How was it that a mere slip of a girl, a silly, klutzy blonde named Tsukino Usagi, age 15, could do this to him? He was 19, he was mature, reserved… they were like night and day. And yet he was inexplicably drawn and repulsed by her…all at the same time.

Thankfully, at that time, the elevator "dinged" and Mamoru practically ran himself into the door trying to get in, repeatedly pushing the"close-door" button once he'd gotten inside. Since the tower was empty, the elevator wasn't full at all—in fact, no one besides Mamoru was inside the glass-walled apparatus. At least, no one was when **he** first got in. But just as the doors were closing, a slender hand threw itself between the heavy doors, effectively shoving them apart until the rest of the body belonging to that slender hand could push its way through.

Mildly surprised by her strength, Mamoru found himself face-to-face with Usagi, who looked quite winded, being red in the face, and having a small droplet of sweat forming on her brow.

The pout she'd worn earlier was still in place, only now she was huffing and puffing more, giving her lips a more slick, full look.

_'No no no no no, I am not mesmerized by Meatball Head, of all people's lips! NO!'_

Mamoru pinched his eyes shut and backed up against the glass wall of the elevator, expecting the worst.

She had him trapped now— cornered, quite literally.

"Ma-mo…" Usagi huffed, her knees giving as she flopped to the floor, "Ma…mo…ru!" She eyed him angrily from her place on the floor, wondering why he'd gone and run like that. He…he couldn't be scared of **her** could he?

Mamoru didn't say anything, for fear it'd give him away completely. Besides, as it was, he couldn't even hear what she was saying, since the sound of his heart beating and his blood rushing sounded so loud to his ears.

He'd never expected it to come down to this. He liked Usagi—a lot—to be sure, but he thought he could keep it his secret, and maybe that way, he could watch her from afar, and not have to worry about her rejecting him, or…

_DON'T LEAVE ME!_

Mamoru blinked, the strange voice echoing in his mind. It almost… it almost sounded like his own voice, from when he was younger.

For a brief instant, he'd seen himself, reaching out to two shadows, disappearing into the darkness—falling…

He didn't understand any of this. He'd never understood these feelings… no one had ever been around to guide him, and show him what love really meant. Was that even what this was? Was he in love with Usagi?

"Mamoru-san?" Usagi peered up at Mamoru curiously, now standing a mere meter away. It would be so easy to just…

Before Mamoru's train of thought could be completed, there was a flash of lightning—so close by, it was almost blinding, followed by a sudden booming of thunder. Usagi leaped into Mamoru's arms like a frightened rabbit. He could feel her tears dripping into his shirt as the booming sounds grew louder, the lightning crashing closer.

Raindrops began to stream down the curved side of the glass elevator, and with a sickening feeling, Mamoru realized that he was not only trapped with Usagi in the elevator, but trapped **alone** with her in the Starlight Tower during a huge storm.

Before Mamoru could think up any comforting words to offer the terrified girl in his arms, the elevator ground to a halt with a loud screech. The lights flickered for a moment, on, off, dimming and then brightening— and then snapping and flickering and going out completely. The two were left in the darkness, alone in an elevator,  
with a storm outside.

This was bad.

* * *

_'This is bad,'_ Usagi thought. She briefly wondered if Mamoru was as uncomfortable as she was now. She probably never would have remembered that day if Mamoru hadn't brought it up…but it wasn't as if she'd forgotten it entirely.

In fact, ever since she'd gotten trapped with Mamoru, bound with him in this twisted fate, she'd remembered more and more…found herself blushing in the dark, trembling, and subconsciously committing Mamoru's strong scent to memory again.

"…Anyway, let's get going back the way we came. Maybe we can take a path we missed." Mamoru's gaze didn't meet Usagi's curious one, and she sighed to herself, wondering where she'd gone wrong this time.

It was all a mistake, wasn't it… to ever break up with him? But back then, she'd been so sure!

"Hey, Usagi, he doesn't deserve someone like you," Shingo's voice echoed in her mind. Many months ago, he'd been so against any sort of a relationship with Mamoru. And back then, Usagi hadn't had the mind or the heart to listen. She simply couldn't **imagine** a future without him. She hadn't bothered to tell Shingo that she and Mamoru had already been going out for years, and it was only recently that she decided to tell her family.

Usagi's memories were interrupted by her bumping into Mamoru's backside—causing the blonde to blush crimson and rub her nose.

"Mamoru, what's wrong?"

"Do you hear that?" Mamoru asked, not a trace of emotion in his voice.

Usagi tilted her head in the direction he'd motioned to, hearing a faint whirring sound.

"It's probably one of the fans turning on. It's no big deal, they're protected from the rest of the shafts with grates on either side."

Usagi's assured knowledge came from the fact that she was the star of the Tokyo Industrial Architecture firm, and knew quite a lot about the layout of the airport they were in. Or she **thought** she had, given that she'd run them into a hundred meter drop, when she thought she'd been leading them to an exit.

Mamoru didn't say anything, and continued to crawl forward. Slowly, the shaft opened across and upwards, giving the duo enough room to stand up without having to hunch.

"That sound is getting louder," Mamoru noted, pulling his jacket closer to him. Indeed, a fan must have turned on, as the ventilation shaft had suddenly become many degrees colder. There seemed to be an intense wind filtering its way through the winding corridors, pulling at both of their clothes, tugging them towards its source.

The pair rounded another corner, and suddenly the sound of the whirring thundered in their ears.

"What **IS** that?!" Mamoru shouted, covering one of his ears while he tried to maintain his balance.

"No…" Usagi whispered, the strong winds nearly carrying away her breath, "The port suction!"

"WHAT!?" Mamoru shouted, coming closer to her.

"I can't hear you!" Usagi yelled back, trying not to cry because of the stinging air.

Mamoru strode forward, pushing himself against the powers of the wind, bracing himself with one hand on the wall, and using the other to wrap around Usagi's slender waist and pull her up against him.

The sound of the wind seemed to die down when they were in each other's arms, and for a moment, the only sound Usagi could hear was that of Mamoru's intense heartbeat…

Usagi swallowed, willing the blood that had so suddenly rushed to her face to recede back where it belonged. Mamoru didn't look at her, and Usagi settled into his warmth, knowing that she could hear his voice, being this close…

"The port suction—you mean the fan that's so powerful it could 'chop me into sashimi?'" Mamoru queried, a stony expression setting on his face. Usagi nodded slowly, gulping. This was all her fault…what had she been thinking, crawling into the ventilation shaft…!?

"And didn't you also say that the port suction also lead out to the airstrip under the runways?" Mamoru murmured.

Usagi shook her head—she hadn't said anything of the sort, but he was right— that **was** where the port suction went.

"What are you thinking, Mamoru?" Usagi cried, staring up at the young man. "You can't possibly go anywhere near that fan, it'll suck you in and slice you up! And this one doesn't have a grate like the others!"

Mamoru didn't respond, and only pushed Usagi away from him.

"Run!"

"Wha—!?" Usagi cried, tumbling backwards into the side corridor from which they'd come. She barely managed to catch sight of Mamoru losing his grip on the wall a few meters away from her—and go flying off into the darkness. There was a sickening crunching sound, and then near-absolute silence. The

"MAMORU!"

* * *

**Geez, I can't write TAFF! Maybe "Quest for Vengeance" will turn out better on that end. Maybe I should ask for advice from the experts!? Regardless, I hope you liked this part!**

**I'm very sorry for not being able to get those three parts out I promised, but between school, after school (they call it a social life, I've heard), and co-ficcing with Siggy and Bonnie (I feel so blessed!) I haven't had much time. I even revised this entire chapter! So expect the next part soon—you can put me higher up on the Hit List if I don't come out with Chapter 5 soon!**

**Expect to see tons more from me soon— especially now that I'm watching SM: Stars!**

**Oh, and please review.**

**P.S. Bonnie rules.**


	5. So Close And Yet So Far

**Twisted Fate  
A Sailor Moon Fanfiction  
Version: 2.0**

**Chapter 5: **So Close and yet So Far

** By:** Azurite - azurite AT seventh-star DOT net  
a.k.a. The Artist Formerly Known as Andi (or Andromida)

**Site: **seventh-star DOT net

** Written for Usagi Week on the SMRFF Mailing List  
**lunap DOT com SLASH smrff

**Edited: **08-31-09

**Disclaimer: **Sailor Moon does not belong to me. It is the property of Naoko Takeuchi and is licensed by Toei Animation, Kodansha Publishing, and probably a bunch of other companies that I'm not 100 percent sure or aware of. This is a not-for-profit entertainment venture only.

**Author's Notes 06-30-03 & 08-31-09: **Sorry if the first part of this chapter seems a little Mamo-centric. It'll get more Usa-focused, I promise.

Ah, heck. I noticed a few errors in previous chapters. Like how I said Usagi lectured Mamoru when they broke up, but when she broke up with him in the last chapter, she didn't. That's why this chapter fixes that. But I also made a screwy mistake in saying that Shingo's flight left the US at 5:30am, and arrived in Narita (Tokyo) at 3:05am.

While the flight might actually take 16 or so hours, the time difference is 13 hours (Tokyo ahead of Boston), so he arrives at 10 AM the day after he "left." In order to make this whole thing work, we're assuming Shingo had a layover in San Francisco. Boston to San Francisco would take about 4.5 hours (5:30 AM to 10 AM, 3 hour time difference, so it's actually 7 AM in San Francisco, and 11 PM in Tokyo). Either the second leg of Shingo's flight is much faster (6 hours, which is unrealistic), or he has a long layover. Since the remaining flight would, more realistically, take another 11.5 hours, in order to leave at 5:30 AM one day and arrive at 3:05 AM the next day, he would have to have a 9 hour layover! Long, yes, but not impossible. So please assume he hung out in San Francisco for 9 hours before departing at 4 PM local time to Tokyo for the second, longer leg of his flight.

The timeline in general works like this:

* Six years ago = Usagi is 15; Mamoru is 19. Usagi is just about to start high school in April, and she'll turn 16 in June. Mamoru has graduated high school and is starting at college, already knowing he wants to get into law school. She meets Mamoru at a party that Motoki invites them both to.

* Six months ago = Usagi is 22; Mamoru has just turned 26. Usagi's about to graduate university with a degree in architectural design, poised to get a great entry-level position thanks to her ability to power network and charm everyone she meets. Shingo has recently left Japan to attend college in the United States, and he's only recently been introduced to Mamoru as Usagi's boyfriend. He has no idea Usagi and Mamoru have been going out for years. Mamoru has graduated university and law school and is working at the same law firm he interned at.

* Present = Usagi is still 22, but will turn 23 in a little over 2 months. Mamoru is such a dedicated worker that he's already been asked to work on several cases with some of the firm's most high-powered lawyers, a surefire way to get noticed. Only problem is, he doesn't socialize with **anyone** at his job, which might be damaging him more than he's willing to admit.

* * *

The world around Chiba Mamoru was hazy, dizzying, and…ringing?

Indeed, there was a sharp, almost shrill ringing sound working its way into the recesses of his mind. Slowly he awoke from sleep, his head throbbing and his body numb.

What had happened?

His vision was blurry, his normally pristine room a shambles. Papers from his desk were all over the floor, being tossed under the desk and into the closet by a room fan turned on the max.

The clothes that he'd worn yesterday—it was yesterday, right?—were hanging off an overturned chair, while his end table was littered with twenty or so small paper cups—and each one of them reeked of alcohol.

It didn't take a forensic expert to figure out what had happened.

Unwanted memories crept back into Mamoru's head. Oh yes, yesterday. Yesterday he'd called Usagi to meet him at the park and go to dinner. He had been planning to…to…

With almost wild movements, Mamoru stumbled out of his bed, his ankles catching on the folds of his comforter, sending him careening to the floor. His headache only worsened his fall by increasing what had, only moments before, been a dull throb into a full-fledged stabbing sensation in the back of his skull.

Yet before him, just beyond his reach, nearly buried underneath those clothes hanging limply off the overturned desk chair…

The box. That little red-velvet box. With so much and so little inside.

The ringing shrilled again, and this time Mamoru recognized it for what it was. He moved his tongue around in his mouth in a vain attempt to rid himself of the dry mouth that hangover brought with it.

He tripped his way to the telephone just outside his bedroom, sitting on an end table next to the couch. He didn't look around much; his head hurt too much to really care or think straight at this point.

"Hello?" It was funny, it was his voice, he knew it was; it didn't SOUND like his though, and it felt strange coming from his throat.

"Mamoru? What happened? Motoki told me he saw you last—" Mamoru blinked, wondering if his memories had merely been a bad dream, something the result of drinking too much for whatever reason.

"Usako?" he murmured, his voice rising as he tried to clear his throat. Silence reigned for a moment.

"Yeah, Mamoru, it's me. But…"

"God, for a moment there I thought I'd lost you! Usa, I had the most terrifying nightmare last night…"

"Mamoru, I'm coming over."

And then there was a click, and Mamoru was left holding the receiver, wondering why Usagi had sounded so strange.

In the next twenty minutes, Mamoru did his best to clean the place up. He didn't really remember—or understand—why his place had suddenly become such a mess. All he remembered was Usagi's crystal voice calling him, filled with emotion, worried for **him**!

He had just managed to change into some fresher clothes and grab a cup of coffee with two aspirin when the doorbell buzzed.

He strode over to the doorbell and pressed the white square as a voice  
spoke.

"It's me." Usagi's voice. Clear and beautiful as always, but…? She sounded strange, too. Strained, for some reason. He couldn't think of any reason why.

He buzzed her in without a second thought, sweeping the living room and his own bedroom with a glance. Yes, clean. Not immaculate, but, Mamoru chuckled, thinking of Usagi's own bedroom, decorated still with posters of pop stars and filled with stuffed bunnies and bright, girly accessories.

Even though she was 21, her own apartment bedroom hadn't changed all that much from her room at her parents' house (her words, not his; he'd never seen her former bedroom at her parents' house) when she was in high school. Still the same cheery, brightness…

The doorbell just outside rang, and Mamoru walked—nearly ran, really—to the door, slip-sliding along the linoleum of the kitchen to the door. But he hadn't expected to see Usagi standing there…her eyes downcast, her hands gripping tightly onto the handles of a cardboard box.

A box of his things.

He stumbled backwards as she stepped inside, sliding off her own shoes and stepping into a pair that waited for her every time she came over.

"It… wasn't a nightmare, was it?" Mamoru managed, finally slumping down in his chair. Usagi set the box down beside the couch and then sat down, her eyes still trained to her feet.

"Mamoru, what did you do yesterday after I left the park?"

He swallowed hard, trying to recall. He'd been so insistent the past half hour that it was all just a terrible nightmare, and whatever had happened last night—his getting drunk, the apartment having been a total mess—it was because of something **else**. Not this, anything but this!

"I don't really remember," he stated, his voice deepening. His expression soured; suddenly the potential for a wonderful day disappeared completely from Mamoru's mind.

"Motoki…he said he saw you stumbling out of some bar near the park. After he closed the game center—that was at 10 p.m., Mamoru! I…I left the park at 5:30…" Usagi was twisting her fingers around, looking anywhere but directly at Mamoru.

She hated having to do this, but every fiber—okay, almost every fiber- insisted that what she was doing was right, what she had to do. She had to move on—move past him, past his…idiocy!

With a strengthened resolve, she marched her words onward.

"Look, there's nothing we can do to change the past. I'm…I was worried that you would go and do something stupid, and well…" She motioned around, noting that despite Mamoru's efforts, the place was still a bit untidy. She **would** notice something like that, especially after having come here for many afternoons and nights.

What she was trying to say to herself was 'Well, look where it got you.'

"Mamoru, I know I didn't give you a proper explanation yesterday, but…"

"WHY? Usako, WHY?" Mamoru's face was hardened now, his blue eyes darkening to an almost jet black. His own hands were clenched tightly, his knuckles almost white from the pressure.

Usagi flinched when he called her by the pet-name. For nearly a week, she'd been weaning herself off calling him "Mamo-chan." She'd hoped he would have gotten the clue, gotten a hint, made her life easier. But he was a stubborn sort, not prone to understanding these things.

"Mamoru, why is it that you're so attentive now? You never had much time for me. Six years…I know it's tough, and believe me, it's not easy doing this," Mamoru scowled—it was probably a lot easier for her than it was for him—"but I have to, because I can't keep lying to myself…or you."

_'Or me? Sounds like an afterthought.' _

He'd never imagined Usagi as the selfish type, but the wound in his heart was quickly growing, staining his thoughts of Usagi something else.

"Back in high school—that was the most wonderful time of my life, Mamoru, and I won't lie to you, I was very much in love with you. But here we are, at the beginnings of our lives, and we…we just never seem to have time for each other anymore."

Mamoru tuned Usagi's words out, closed his eyes against her tearful, pleading expression. No, this wasn't happening, this wasn't the way it was supposed to be.

He knew he didn't spend enough time with her—he regretted every second he wasn't with Usagi, missed every moment that she wasn't in his arms. Constant reminders told him to call her, to let her know just how much he loved her. But somehow, things always came out wrong, and it felt like **he** was the one back in high school again,  
his mouth acting before his brain did.

Why hadn't he seen this coming, then? Why had he disillusioned himself into believing that the beautiful Usagi he was involved with was the same carefree, innocent girl she'd been so long ago? She'd grown up, become a woman. She was making her dreams a reality, while he…he was stuck.

He hadn't changed much. He was still interning at the same law firm that he'd been working at while he was in school: same position, same hours, same people, day after day. He might just end up spending the rest of his life as a nobody on the bottom rung of the firm's totem pole. And he was just as stoic and focused on working hard and hopefully working his way up as he had been on studying in high school. No time for romance, only success! Success meant that you were at least doing something right.

Usagi had changed something in him back then, he knew that much, but somehow meeting her at that party, and then all that teasing, the elevator…he couldn't forget those moments: they were engraved in very being.

"Mamoru, are you even listening to me?" Usagi's voice was catching, and when he looked up, she was indeed crying. He wanted to take her in his arms, to comfort her— but how could he, when he was breaking inside, too?

_'This is how he is, Usagi! He'll never change!'_ Usagi thought, furiously wiping her tears away with her sleeve. She had just meant to make this simple and clean, an easy break. But Mamoru, in his own strange, frustrating way, wouldn't let her.

Perhaps it was his arrogance that demanded he be more important. That **he** had the right to break up with her, and talk about his reasons why, while **she** couldn't even speak.

She was angry now, she knew it, but her heart was pounding loudly in her chest, and a multitude of voices in her head started casting doubt on her resolve.

_'Is this the right thing? After so long, what could break a relationship this strong?'_

_'Everyone thought we were the worst of enemies for so long, but I promised to prove them wrong. And we seemed like the perfect couple for so long, so why did that change?'_

_'Why does _he_ look upset? He couldn't…he never really _loved_ me!'_

Her last thought, her loudest and strongest, kept her going. She stood up, her skin nearly sticking to the leather of his couch. She refused to be part of this charade any longer. In the beginning, Mamoru had been so stoic and reticent, so very much unlike her. But slowly, he'd opened up to her, and she found herself getting swept off her feet by his ways.

He didn't fit the profile of the standard Prince on a White Horse, but at times, he certainly HAD been charming. And then when she'd graduated high school and finally decided that it was architecture that was her dream…

_'I have to stop thinking like this! I have to…'_

"Mamoru, I wish I could just give you that old line that 'it's not you, it's me.' But it's not. I've given my all for this, and I get next to nothing back. There was a time when you seemed to care, and were…" She swallowed a lump in her throat, "were almost passionate about me. But now it looks like we've both got different priorities, different lifestyles, and…I can't take the way you always brush everything that's so important to me as meaningless. You're cold, callous, insensitive, and…and a-arrogant, and I'm not taking it anymore! Goodbye!"

Crying, Usagi stormed out of the house, walking out with her slippers in hand and her shoes on her feet, not bothering to get any of her other things left at Mamoru's house. If there **was **even anything at all.

No, her ties to him were broken. Once and for all.

* * *

"MAMORU!" Usagi shrieked. Her cry echoed throughout the metal walls of the ventilation shaft, and she didn't have time to think before she unsteadily headed to where she'd seen Mamoru last—practically flying towards the port suction.

A gigantic fan with razor sharp blades, with no grate protecting it from the rest of the ventilation shaft and its many curving corridors.

Then again, why would it need one? After all, it wasn't everyday that **geniuses** like Usagi decided to crawl through bathroom air ducts in vain attempts to escape from airport toilet stalls.

It wasn't everyday that you ran into your ex-boyfriend, and then suddenly found yourself overwhelmed with old emotions, old memories, old everything, wondering if breaking up with him in the first place had been a complete and utter mistake or not!

Usagi was crying as she rounded the corner, hiccoughing as she expected to see a bloody and mangled Mamoru caught between the blades of the port suction fan.

She pinched her eyes shut until the last possible moment, using her hand to guide her along the wall. When she realized that the metal hadn't changed 'consistency' at all (meaning, in her mind, it wasn't covered in blood) she opened one eye…then another.

Instead of a body being caught between the blades (such a gory thought, Usagi told herself, shaking her head), there was a leather belt, the clasp wound around the motor in the center.

One of the blades had been yanked out and entirely and was lying on the ground at Usagi's feet— and Mamoru was not in sight. There seemed to be a slight drop, and then darkness.

"Mamo…Mamoru?" Usagi called out timidly. Her voice echoed, and she sniffled loudly, taking a step forward and squeezing through the opening between the fan-blades. It turned out that, while sharp, they weren't the sashimi-chopping blades she imagined them as, and she got through without much of a scrape.

Today had just been too much of a hazard to begin with.

"Usa? Usagi, is that you?"

Usagi could have burst into a fresh set of tears then and there, knowing Mamoru was alive— and he sounded well. But she couldn't see a thing in this pitch black, and wondered where Mamoru had gotten to.

"Mamoru! You're—!" Usagi gulped as she slid along the wall. Well, this was a new experience. She'd been caught in blackouts before, but only in familiar settings where she could feel her way around and figure things out. There were always candles and flashlights around somewhere…but here, it was only endless black.

She started to look around her despite the dark, feel the walls and floor surrounding her with an almost desperate fingers, hoping she wouldn't suddenly fall through the fl—

"Well, Usagi, I didn't know you wanted me that badly." Mamoru's rich chuckle suddenly was a lot closer than Usagi remembered from moments before—and she realized that it was no longer a metal floor she was touching, but soft shirt fabric, and, as her fingers moved up, slowly touching Mamoru's hand, then his neck, then his face, she  
realized—it was indeed him, and he was in one piece!

"Mamoru!" Usagi flung herself into his arms, practically shoving him against the floor with the force of her 'hug.' Mamoru made an 'oomph' sound in surprise, slowly wrapping his arms around her slender frame. He'd been about to say 'Just kidding,' but when he heard he sniffling over his shoulder, her form trembling, he realized just how scared she had been.

And he thought **he** was the one that hated dark, cramped places.

"Ssh, Usagi, it's all right. We're both safe now. And look," Mamoru turned her slightly so she could see the light in the distance.

It was far away, but bright, like a gigantic spotlight—like…the lights on the runway? Was Mamoru right? Did this tunnel really lead to the runway?!

Usagi sniffled. After all this, they'd be able to get out? She looked up at Mamoru—or what she thought was Mamoru's face—and slowly moved her hand to his face, just to make sure she was looking in the right direction. Mamoru sucked in a breath when her fingers ran across his lips, and he resisted the temptations that flared within him in that split second.

"Come on," he murmured hoarsely, grabbing Usagi's free hand, "Let's go."

* * *

**MWAHAHA! Okay, not so much a cliffhanger as last time! But yippies, I'm back! I'm still trying to correct some errors from past chapters, but all in all, there should only be two more chapters to this! The next one will be littered with more flashbacks (eh, this one had that ONE really LONG one!) about Usagi and Mamoru's meeting, the cramped elevator, and…Well, more. I might just shoot for 8 chapters to make it nice and even.**

**But I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, even if it wasn't super-Usa centric. Email me or review and tell me what you think!**


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